


Enjoy the Silence

by casinoquality



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Daddy Issues, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 18:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/298957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casinoquality/pseuds/casinoquality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Duke's birthday. It might not entirely suck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enjoy the Silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KahtyaSofia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/gifts).



> Beta'd by the wonderful Sinjah. There is a short mix for this fic which can be found [ here](http://www.mediafire.com/?4o7xvvrtjdw84hz) until after reveals.

Duke is seventeen when he realizes he hates his father.

He hates him for every skinned knee left to bleed, for every forgotten gift, for every drunken Christmas since his mother walked out and left them. Now he can’t even find the energy to blame her.

He will never get out of Haven. He’ll forever be stuck here, making sure his father doesn’t drink himself to death. School’s never mattered much to his old man, and Duke doesn’t give much of a damn himself really, but he goes every day anyway. Its six hours he doesn’t have to spend at home. Listening to his teachers, sometimes he thinks it might even be his only ticket out of Maine.

It’s his birthday. A couple of the guys had smuggled him a birthday beer a few hours before, and Duke had laughed it off and toasted to near legality instead of telling them it was the only thing he’d been given. They didn’t hang around long, maybe sensing his mood. Duke’s not sure if he’s glad for that or not.

He’s throwing pebbles out to sea when he hears footsteps, even and steady along the path. He doesn’t turn to look, too fixated on the brightness of the low hung moon, reflection huge on the ocean. As much as he wants to leave Haven, he thinks, part of him will always be here – in the reflection on the water, the waves.

“Duke.”

Nathan, of course. Shit with Nathan is complicated. Duke knows that some of things he’s done have been especially fucked up. He can’t just bring himself to acknowledge it, not when Nathan himself takes so much pleasure in his vengeances. Sometimes their rivalry is the only thing that makes him feel _human_.

Though it’s Haven, so maybe that’s a fantasy too.

“Here to give me a birthday kiss, Nathan?” He offers instead of a greeting, turning slightly to his right to eye Nathan from under his hair. It’s getting too long in the front, but his dad hates it, so it stays.

Nathan’s making a pinched face, the ridiculous angles of his jaw coming in even tighter. He doesn’t say anything though, just crosses his arms over his chest, hunches in on himself like he’s preparing for something. He turns his gaze out over the ocean and after a beat his face relaxes a fraction, as though the ocean soothes him as much as it does Duke.

Duke huffs in a breath, sharp and cold and sits on the grass, legs splayed out in front of him. The windbreaker around his shoulders isn’t quite warm enough in the chill, but he’s slightly buzzed and too peaceful to care. He closes his eyes and tips his face up, as though he could feel the moonlight on his face. He feels the grass near him move and blinks open one eye.

Nathan is sitting with his legs crossed, like he never unlearned the habit from grade school. His stupid jacket is bright red, obviously belongs to someone much older and broader in the shoulders than he. He’s studying Duke with an odd expression and Duke thinks maybe they might be having a moment before Nathan opens his mouth and ruins it.

“You been drinking, Duke?” There’s enough accusation in it to make Duke’s hackles rise and isn’t that peachy, the son of a cop, exactly like daddy – “Got any left?”

Duke freezes. Both his eyes are wide open now and he _knows_ he’s making a really unattractive face with his mouth open like that. Nathan smirks like he knows every thought in Duke’s head and then, even more unbelievably, laughs. It’s short, gruff and Duke likes the sound of it. A thought he immediately represses for his own peace of mind.

He relaxes, determined to play it off casual and raises an eyebrow. “Playing the bad boy, Nathan? Daddy won’t like that.” He’d pegged Nathan early on as one of those kids who is desperate for parental approval and seeing as Mr Wuornos is the only one who ever shows up to meetings and parent days, Duke figures it’s for him. He’s not expecting the flash of fury that shutters across Nathan’s face.

It twists painful in his gut, the brief sympathy and understanding. He swallows around it, wishes that Nathan would go away and stop making him feel things that aren’t his own self-pity tonight. It’s his birthday after all.

“Oh, so that’s the _idea_.” He says after too long, the words loud enough to startle the crickets around them.

“Not the only one with a shit old man, Duke.” Nathan’s voice is bitter, though his mouth is twisted up in another smirk.

“I bet mine wins that competition” It’s out of his mouth before he can quite think to stop it and Nathan laughs, louder this time, like he means it. Like it hurts.

They fall into silence then, sitting side by side, nothing but the sound of the waves and the crickets around them. A breeze picks up, ruffles over their clothes, their hair, biting and alive. It’s nice. He’ll never admit it, maybe not even to himself tomorrow, but he needed this, maybe.

When he glances at Nathan out of the corner of his eye he thinks Nathan might’ve needed it too.

It feels like forever before Nathan speaks again, out of the blue. “Hanna stole her dad’s key to the church.”

“And?” Duke never thought little Hanna had it in her, but he’s kind of impressed despite himself. In the race of crazy fathers, Patriarch Driscoll wins by a landslide.

Nathan looks at him patiently, like he’s particularly dull and stupid. “ _And_ we’re meeting up there later. Couple people from school. You know. If you wanted.”

Seems like it’s a night full of surprises. Duke shrugs his shoulders then reaches up to run his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t know what to do with a nice Nathan, one who doesn’t hold every wrong look as a fatal grudge. “If I wanted.” He repeats at last, eyeing Nathan carefully, looking for sign of a trick in his face.

If there is, Nathan isn’t showing it. He looks earnest as ever, ridiculous cheekbones shadowed in the dark. “If you wanted.” Nathan says again and then stands, dusts off his ass and his jeans. He turns back to look at the car park where his piece of shit truck his parked. Duke doesn’t know how he didn’t hear it pull up. The thing sounds like an angry rhino.

Duke’s ready to go back to his quiet night of feeling shitty when Nathan steps closer and pats him on the back before fishing his keys out of his front pocket.

“Hey Duke?” he waits for Duke to look up and then smiles, a flash of teeth. “Happy Birthday.”

And then he’s gone, pick up rumbling down the road, the sound of something terrifyingly country blasting from the dead end speakers.

Duke shakes his head. Like that will help clear anything up, fuck. He lies back against the grass, crosses his arms and cradles the back of his head in his spread palms. Tomorrow things will go back to normal, he thinks and stares up at the stars.

But today…

He gets up after a heartbeat, looks at the Church up on the hill, only a few minutes away. It’s not that cold out. Fuck it, he starts up towards it, hands jammed tight in his pockets.

After all – it is his birthday.


End file.
